


Adjustments

by onlymostlydead



Series: Noctifer [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Angst, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Brotherly Love, Chronic Pain, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Themes, Mental Health Issues, Merry Michaelmas 2020, Permanent Injury, Physical Disability, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sexual Assault, Therapy, Wing Grooming, keep an eye out for additional tags or changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26717845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlymostlydead/pseuds/onlymostlydead
Summary: Now that the charade is over, Michael must learn to live as himself.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Ella Lopez & Michael, Michael & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Series: Noctifer [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884706
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84





	Adjustments

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, welcome back to Noctifer! If you're new here, I'd suggest reading _The Fallen_ first for some background, as this is an alternative version of Michael based on what we knew from the trailer before Season 5 came out.  
> Please note that this is still a work in progress and I have absolutely no schedule for this (I just couldn't resist posting a chapter early for Michaelmas) 😅 Also, since I've tried tagging for everything I've written/planned, not all of the tags apply to this first chapter.  
> tw this chapter: Ableist Language (negative self-talk)  
> un-beta'd

Lucifer threw open the door, “Ah! Doctor Linda!” Michael sighed and followed him, only going along with this _therapy_ because he was disgustingly bored and so his brothers would stop _nagging_. 

“Lucifer, hello. I would tell you to make an appointment but you wouldn’t listen, would you?” apparently Doctor Linda said, without looking up from her paperwork; something Lucifer claimed to be allergic to.

“Nope!” His brother said, popping the P. Michael rolled his eyes.

The tiny bespectacled woman quietly sighed and looked up, rubbing the bridge of her nose in the guise of pushing them further up her face. Her eyes widened and her mouth slackened as she caught sight of him, “Oh. I didn’t know you had a twin?”

“Yes, unfortunately. You see he’s been quite the cliche — playing my evil twin like my life is some TV drama — and I’d like you to fix him.” Michael wondered if he could strain something rolling his eyes so often.

Doctor Linda cleared her throat, her face falling into a neutral expression, “Why don’t you two, ah, come in and take a seat?” He wished he could say he had better things to do than this but he really didn’t.

They sat at opposite ends of the couch, Michael trying very hard to make the movement fluid and natural past his stiff, aching side. Lucifer crossed his legs and folded his hands together primly on top of his knees, while Michael focused strictly on sitting straight. The temperature had dropped overnight and his body did not appreciate it; and _heating pads_ , while possibly humanity’s greatest invention, only did so much for a celestial injury. His wing had been cramping all morning, folded away as it was in the aether.

Doctor Linda herself moved to the chair across the low table. “So, how about we start with you introducing yourself?” she said, motioning to Michael. He blinked, taken aback, not having expected being addressed directly so soon. His brother usually took charge in these sorts of things, infuriatingly. He had Fallen to get away from his other siblings’ bullshit; his twin, the being he was closest to, falling into the same pattern _stung_.

“Michael.”

Her raised eyebrows were her only admission to surprise. “The _Archangel_ Michael?”

“Oh don’t be so impressed, Doctor. Mikey here is hardly saintly these days.” Michael glared at the side of Lucifer’s head, whose eyes were fixed firmly ahead on Doctor Linda. Of course he couldn’t shut up for _five minutes_ to let him answer. Oh, and he _hated_ that nickname.

“Right.” The doctor’s voice pulled his attention back to her. She huffed a small laugh and shook her head, “Why not?” she muttered, presumably to herself.

“Alright, how about this. Let’s go over this, ah, ‘evil twin’ thing. Lucifer will go first and tell his version of these... events, then Michael will go after.”

Lucifer shifted in his seat, sitting impossibly straighter. No doubt preening like the peacock he was at going first.

“So in the beginning—”

“Ah,” Doctor Linda interrupted, a hand up. Against all reason Lucifer obediently snapped his mouth closed. First addressing Michael and then shutting his pain in the ass twin up? Be still his heart. “Let’s fast forward to more recent events? I _do_ have other patients you know.” Lucifer waved his hand haughtily, but the doctor paid no mind to it, checking her watch. “We have about an hour until my first _appointment_ ,” she said pointedly and looked back up.

“Fine. But the beginning would’ve helped explain our current predicament, you know.” Michael wasn’t so sure about that, suspecting that Lucifer really just wanted another reason to hear his own voice. As if he didn’t hear enough of it.

So Lucifer launched into his sordid tale, which could still do with some condensing, Michael thought. He tuned him out until a familiar hand with a familiar ring landed on his good shoulder — he tended to position himself with his lame side facing away from others. “So you see, Doctor! Entirely despicable behavior and I don’t know _why!_ ” He shrugged his brother off, unwilling to deal with the fact that touch tended to overwhelm him these days. Or ever, preferably.

“That does sound pretty bad,” Doctor Linda agreed in an unreadable flat tone. “Have you two… talked about it?”

Michael cocked his head and Lucifer said, “No, why would we?”

“Right, forgot who I was talking to,” she deadpanned. “Okay,” she took a few deep breaths before continuing, “Michael?”

Michael shrugged, “It’s as Lucifer said. I did a bad thing,” he imagined his brother looked terribly smug right now, “And now I’m over it. May I leave?” He could leave at any time, of course.

“But _why_ did you do it? What’s _your_ side, Michael?” Her sharp, honest eyes implored him to continue. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, at the power this little mortal possessed. He begrudgingly allowed that he was beginning to respect her, as he did the other humans Lucifer surrounded himself with. _How_ did he find such worthy companions?

“Well, I suppose…” he began haltingly, trying to explain what he could see now that he had never fully understood, in a way that would not leave him vulnerable. He had no moral code against lying as his brother did, but he was still _just_. _Briefly_ attempting to ruin his brother’s life notwithstanding. He did not want to disservice this woman who had already been caught up in his ill-advised schemes, who had been, thus far, unerringly kind and polite to him. 

“I just wanted to mess with my brother.” That _was_ the truth, just a very small part of it. It would have to do, it _should_ do. The Doctor’s raised a skeptical eyebrow, damn.

Lucifer snorted beside him. “You are terrible at pranks, brother. I mean really—”

“And?” Doctor Linda interrupted with a stern voice. Apprehension crawled down his spine to settle in his belly, a sign if any of how far he had fallen from his former glory; that he would _fear_ someone he could smite with nary a thought.

“You don’t understand, Doctor,” he tried, “ _Eons_ of watching him prance around—”

“You were watching me? Pervert!”

“Like I _wanted_ to see you whoring around with half of Earth’s population—!”

“Ah!” The human barked, somehow shutting them both up. “Lucifer, let your brother talk.” Michael turned to Lucifer, considering what rude gesture he would make, when his name snapped him back to attention, “Michael, there is _no_ sex shaming in this office, ever. Got it?”

“Yes,” they both said at once, as if they were once again chastised boys before their Father. Although Lucifer, ever the rebel, piped up with, “Oh yes, this office is _quite_ sex positive—”

“Shut it,” she said with a glare, and he truly did, his flirtatious purr dying in his throat. If Michael hadn’t been properly scolded as well, and cared for such things, he could have kissed her, he thought.

“Okay,” she sighed heavily and checked her watch, “We still have some time. Michael, if you could please continue?” _And stop hedging_ , was unspoken, yet clear in her tone.

He took a sip of the as of yet untouched water on the table between them, then another larger drink. Lucifer’s leg bounced in his peripheral and he knew he couldn’t stall any longer. “I… I watched my brother indulging in life’s pleasures, move on. While I remained… stagnant and crippled in Heaven. My brother found you mortals, who treat him with more kindness than our own blood. I thought… well, I foolishly thought I could have the same and…” he took a deep, fortifying breath, “Perhaps if I antagonized God’s favorite son in the process, that He would cease His abandonment of His children, why did He…?” his voice broke pathetically and he closed his eyes in humiliation. He may as well have bared his throat to the sharp blade of the Doctor’s stare. His twin was judging him he knew, he would mock him like the rest of their family — _broken angel, Cripple of God_ —

The hand on his shoulder again, the touch far more gentle. He breathed past the sob lodged in his throat at the sensation and opened his eyes when the threat of tears passed. Lucifer’s expression was solemn, a strange look his usually glib brother. “Dad abandoned me too, Mi. I… prayed for forgiveness in the beginning, even _begged_ for it, loathe as I am to admit it. You know what He said?” He didn’t wait for an answer, it was obvious, “Zilch.”

Michael wanted to rebut his brother, that their Father still cared for the Lightbringer. He had brought him back from Hell that one time, hadn’t He? But one resurrection did not absolve a lifetime of silence. _Had_ it truly been Father…? Or were those merely the words of lost, _desperate_ children?

His brother wrapped him in a hug even before the first tears could fall. Michael fisted the back of his twin’s jacket and hid his grief into his shoulder, letting the comfortable familiarity of their embrace sooth him.

He heard the Doctor speak and realized he had forgotten she was there. He let it go. Let her see his childish display. “I’m so sorry to cancel our session so close to your time slot, but I just had a family emergency come up,” he heard her say.

**Author's Note:**

> So... y'all know how in the last part I said there'd be fluff in the sequel? 😅  
> (There WILL be fluff. For now, have some comfort in your hurt?)


End file.
